


Stay

by marie_deneuve



Category: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (2005), Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Mutual Pining, Resolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:28:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29645769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marie_deneuve/pseuds/marie_deneuve
Summary: A slight Wonka character study, detailing four times when Eliza stayed.
Relationships: Willy Wonka/Original Character(s), Willy Wonka/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 2





	Stay

**Author's Note:**

> Before y’all ask, I have no clue what this is. It wasn’t a planned WIP, this honestly just spilled out of me after being suddenly inspired by a tumblr anon two days ago. It’s a totally different style for me, who usually edits and polishes until my fingers bleed. That means it’s a huge step out of my comfort zone. Reading it back to myself, though, I’m actually quite proud of it! I hope y’all enjoy it!!)
> 
> \- Love, Katherine

Willy Wonka maintains that there is nothing wrong with his suggestion that Charlie drop out of school. He asserts that there is no subject in which he cannot teach his protege everything he needs to know. Noah and Helen Bucket seem significantly less confident in that notion.

Dr. Weber is the compromise.

Apparently, Noah Bucket has a coworker who has a friend who has a son who studied under Dr. Weber, and his coworker's friend's son claims that Dr. Weber is a genius. So now it falls upon Wonka to ascertain both whether or not she is a genius and whether or not she is trustworthy enough to enter his factory. His world, his lifeblood, his _soul_.

Dr. Weber is intelligent, all right. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he also registers that she is rather attractive, although he's not sure why it registers at all. Her eyes are world-weary, piercing straight through him as they converse just outside of the library.

He thinks she is so different from him until she opens her mouth and rattles on for what seems like an hour about her work in designing a gas turbine with a thermal efficiency of eighty percent. Then, he knows that they are kindred spirits. He decides that is much worse, much more dangerous.

Despite being kindred spirits, she is in fact the perfect teacher for Charlie. He says, "I'm so terribly sorry for taking up so much of your valuable time, but I have one more important matter to discuss with you. Could you possibly stay just a few minutes longer?"

"Yes, I can stay," she answers without hesitating. "Before we move on...I don't believe you have told me your name."

That is no accident or oversight on his part. Rather, it is his curse. Once a person knows his name, knows who he is, the timer is set. When time runs out, when his _usefulness_ to that person runs out, that person leaves. It has happened with every single person in his life, save for the Bucket family— _his_ family, he reminds himself sternly.

Dr. Weber does not yet know him. And for now, Dr. Weber tells him that she can stay.

\-----

Instead of Dr. Weber, she insists on being called Eliza. He doesn't mind that.

She also insists on calling him Mr. Wonka. He _does_ mind that (even though he never says so) because she is nearly thirty, and he is not that much older, he's really not. Forty isn't too old to have spent nearly half of his life completely and utterly alone and only recently realized he may have some minor regrets about that.

In any case, Eliza has only been working at the factory for a few months, and she is already his best employee. She has the advantage of height over the Oompa-Loompas, and she seems never to wear out. Splitting her day between tutoring Charlie, lending a hand around the factory, and continuing to lecture at the university, it's quite miraculous how she manages it all.

He is fairly certain she only pretends to. The deepening bags under her eyes tell him as much. Yet, her concentration never wavers, not even as he is looming over her hunched form, and she is working on balancing that ledger as though her life depends on it.

"The sun went down two hours ago," he speaks up suddenly.

With a startled gasp, she nearly drops her pen. Meanwhile, he is grinning unapologetically—it's amusing, forcing her to break character every so often.

Adjusting those oversized glasses, she consults her wristwatch. "Ah, I...hadn't noticed." Guiltily, she adds, "I'm not keeping you, am I?" Her hand resumes its writing.

"Not at all, my dear lady!" He catches the way her hand stutters at the word "dear" and chastises himself. "...How long do you plan on staying?" he asks, fearing the answer.

As expected, she spectacularly misjudges the nature of his inquiry. "As long as I am needed, Mr. Wonka," she tells him without looking up from her work.

The timer ticks loudly enough to keep him awake all through the night.

\-----

He is so hopelessly deep that Eliza is now living inside the factory. She lives there, she spends time working and chatting with him in his private suite, she has resigned from her position at the university, and she smiles much, _much_ more often than she did months ago.

Their friendship is easy and natural now, rough as the road leading up to it had been. She has slowly and carefully lured him down that path—albeit unintentionally, oblivious as she is. 

Against his better judgment, he has allowed himself to be lured. And the farther along the path he strays, the louder the ticking timer. Each _tick, tick, tick_ in perfect synchronization with his heartbeat, accelerated because she is smiling at him.

That smile drops when her phone rings.

Although she has excused herself to his bathroom, he can still hear her words becoming more and more clipped as the call progresses. He has never heard that tone from her before, yet it's one he recognizes well.

It's his own tone during the rare calls his father gives him.

Eliza bursts back into the living area, visibly distressed. She hastily begins gathering her things, saying it was a silly disagreement with her former foster mother and that she'll return to her own room immediately. 

She even apologizes for ruining his evening with her dramatics. Even though she didn't, she couldn't, she could never. The idea is so laughable that he can't even laugh, merely shake his head solemnly. The only time Eliza ruins his evening is when she is absent. So in actuality, he supposes, she ruined everything a long time ago.

Even so, he catches her before she can leave and suffer on her own. Despite every nerve ending screaming its discomfort at the display of vulnerability, he calmly tells her, "You don't have to go, Liza. You can stay...if you want to."

They sit together in silence, save for the deafening tick of the timer in his ears. He respects her dignity by not looking at her when she begins to cry. He offers his gloved hand, and he allows her to squeeze it as tightly as she needs to.

Weakly, she murmurs, “...Thank you, Willy.”

They are kindred spirits, after all. Although, for her sake, he would give anything for that to be less true.

\-----

It turns out that Eliza is not the only one who has been oblivious for the past year.

It's difficult to remember how it starts, much less which of them makes the first move toward the other. He should be embarrassed by how easily he caves to her—and he might be, had she not caved just as easily. This has been a long time coming, and when the dam finally bursts, they desperately grasp at each other as though it's their last night alive.

The following morning, he wakes up to an empty bed and silence. Strange, as he had expected at least a touch of fanfare to her swift departure from his life. Disappointed, but not surprised.

He is not prepared for the bedroom door swinging open.

Eliza is wearing her clothing from the previous night, although her blouse is wrinkled and her hair falls in untamed waves. She holds a steaming mug of coffee in either hand. Jelly, his spoiled white Ragdoll cat, pads into the room behind her, climbs onto the bed and settles at his feet, purring contentedly in that way that announces she has just been fed.

As Eliza sets one mug down on the nightstand beside him, he blinks, ensuring that he is indeed fully awake.

"Eliza," he rasps, cursing how relieved he sounds (although it's a tad late to play coy). "You...you're still here."

She tilts her head in confusion. Where else would she be? His cat was hungry, and he always has his morning coffee at six AM.

"I do not relish returning to my room in the same outfit from last night," she mutters, taking a sip from her own mug. "Perhaps it would be prudent of me to bring a change of clothes next time."

_Next time_ seems too good to be true. Then again, Eliza herself always seems too good to be true. Yet, here she is, feeding his cat, bringing him coffee in bed, crawling in next to him and skimming through an article in the _Acta Astronomica_ on her tablet.

Wonka knows that last night, an unspoken barrier was broken, and breaking that barrier has consequences. If life has taught him anything, he should be good and terrified right now. Terrified that he has been compromised, that he has undeniably given this tightly-wound woman immeasurable power over him. His walls, so carefully crafted over thirty long, lonely years—Charlie Bucket and his family created a massive, irreparable hole in them six years ago. Eliza Weber boldly climbed through that hole and made a home for herself within. But he is not terrified, not in the slightest; in fact, he feels _liberated._

Wonka eventually reaches over to his nightstand and takes a sip of his coffee. He briefly locks eyes with Eliza, and they share a languid smile, always able to communicate so much with so little effort.

Eliza, who stayed, who _stays_ , she has ruined everything. Wonka can never thank her enough for that.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please leave kudos, and tell me your thoughts in the comments below!
> 
> P.S. I get up to way more Wonka-related shenanigans on my tumblr! Follow me at https://fudgemallows.tumblr.com/


End file.
